Original subtitles

Previously on Ray Donovan:

Your father's been here.

- What did you say? - I don't remember.

I have a brain tumour.

Father Danny, he's here in L.A. I seen him.

- The one that abused Bunchy? - It wasn't only Bunch.

- They don't know. - I told you to shut up.

I loved you.

See what I'm saying? We could knock this place off real easy.

Terry. This is my son. He's gonna be our muscle.

- Try this one. - You're a cop.

Never know when you'll get in trouble. If you do, call me.

I think I'm in love with you.

McPHERSON: Kate McPherson, Boston Globe.

She's a reporter. Gonna publish a story that says I paid him to kill Mickey.

She has to be stopped.

You buried a Catholic priest at a Jewish hospital?

Anything happens to Kate McPherson, that body comes up.

You think fucking this guy's gonna make you feel better, but it won't.

It feels pretty fucking good right now, Ray.

- I'm locked in! - Where's Terry?

Just drive, son.

- Here's your cut. - Keep counting. I'm the one going to jail.

- Kate McPherson is dead. - What?

There was an explosion, I think I broke my arm.

You almost killed your grandson.

You sent Avi.

Of course I did.

You don't know who you are anymore, Ray.

It's over, Ezra.

What are you doing, Raymond?

- Yeah, I'd like to report a body. - Raymond.

Mr. Goldman.

Mr. Goldman, can you hear me?

Mr. Goldman?

My name is Thomas Romero.

I'm a servant of the Paraclete.

Paraclete?

I minister to broken priests.

No last rites. I'm a Jew.

A call from your office led to the body of a murdered priest.

I tried to make a monument.

Did you make that call?

You can't tell Ruth.

She's suffered enough.

- Who made the call, Mr. Goldman? - What are you doing?

- Did you make the call? - He doesn't want a priest.

- Who made the call? - He doesn't want a priest.

I understand.

I'll pray for you, Mr. Goldman.

The girl I killed.

Sweetheart, you didn't kill anyone.

Ray needs to know.

Ray hasn't spoken to you in months, Ezra.

- Call Ray. - No, Ray isn't here.

Call him, call him.

- Call Ray! Call Ray! - Nurse? Nurse?

Ray!

Nice. It's only 2 grand. It's Italian.

- Where is he? - You can't go back there this time, Ray.

- Give me a break. - Ray.

- Ray. - Flip!

- Ray. ls that you, Ray?!

Open the door, Bob.

We know who he is, Ray.

- Open the fucking door. - She wants more money, man.

Jesus, Ray.

Give me the fucking key.

- Flip? - In here. Oh, God. In here!

In here!

Aah! Oh, God! No, don't. No, no, don't. Let go.

He stiffed my glory hole.

They zip-tied my cock... Aah!

Third time. He pleasure himself and run without paying. Third time.

- Five hundred, right? - Not anymore.

He told me he's important man. Big scandal.

Many people like to see.

You pay 6000.

I'm gonna... I'm gonna lose consciousness.

No one's gonna pay you 6000 for this asshole's picture.

Six thousand, or I call the stalkerazzi.

Heh-heh-heh. Okay.

Aah! Oh, God!

- Hello. Uh-huh. - Marty, it's Ray Donovan.

You got any interest in a picture of Flip Brightman fucking a glory hole?

- Flip who? - Brightman.

- Who? - Flip Brightman.

Stop wasting my fucking time, Donovan.

- Ray, Ray. - Trust me, he's nobody.

In the future, can you please tell the chaplain not to visit?

- We don't have a chaplain on tonight. - Excuse me?

Okay, okay, thanks.

Ezra.

Oh, Ezra.

Oh.

Oh, Ezra.

Oh, my love.

Can I bum a cigarette?

Thank you.

- Hey, Ray. - It looks like it'll be another...

beautiful day in Southern California. Ray...

I... I have a disease, okay?

That guy in there with his cock and balls zip-tied, that guy wasn't me.

That guy was my addict.

Yeah, well, one of you owes me $2000.

So my fucking ex-boyfriend calls me drunk last night.

It's like, "Am I supposed to come to your house?"

- You okay? - Then I say to myself:

"Mandy, you just have to fucking say no."

How many times are you gonna fucking do this?

You just go over to his house. The same shit happens.

- Yeah? - Ezra's dead.

- What? - He's gone, Ray.

The fuck you talking about?

I'm so sorry.

Fucking say no, particularly to the men in my life.

Ray, you there?

I'm so fucking tired.

"ABBY". Where are you?

I mean, can we all just stop pretending?

Come home.

- That's not a good idea. - Then I'll come to you.

No.

Go back to sleep.

I'm done.

Seriously fucking done.

And this time I totally mean it. I know I've said it before. I've tried before.

Fasten your seatbelts, raise your chairs to the upright position.

We'll be landing at Los Angeles International Airport shortly.

Tip the country on its side...

and everything that falls loose lands in L.A.

I'm just gonna focus on myself for now.

I'm completely through with men, you know.

Yes! Oh, yes!

Yes!

Oh, God, yes.

In what was said...

While the kidnapper's demands are not known...

judging by the family's fortune, they're sure to be substantial.

Now Flip with the five-day forecast.

And it's gonna be another beautiful day in Southern California.

Marvelous, you got it. You got... You got star quality.

Mickey.

- Vartan. - What, are you a mermaid?

Vartan, my friend, what do you got for me?

Exactly what you asked for, 14 beautiful grills.

Let me see.

- What the fuck is this? Eleven grand? - You got a good eye.

It's the Kalamazoo, man. It's the top of the line.

- Why is it so much'? - It's got 55,000 BTUs.

Give it to me for one-third retail.

Okay, $4000 cash, and I bring it to you this afternoon.

Yeah.

Took that pretty quick.

Maybe I should have gone lower.

It's just, I don't want to go.

- You're going. I ain't asking, Ginger. - Please, please, send somebody else.

Listen, never disappoint the client, Ginger.

- But I have to watch Audrey. - No, you don't.

Mickey loves looking after her. Don't you? It'll just be a couple hours.

- Sure. - Good man.

Hey, princess, I'm gonna have your mama back in a hot minute, okay? Good girl.

- Sorry, baby doll. I won't be long. - You got Gary Royal.

Just hang out with Mickey. I'll be back.

- Can we go? - I love you.

- Please, don't. - Gosh, damn it.

- Thank you. - I don't wanna hear that shit.

- Bye, Mom. - Bye, baby.

You okay there, kiddo?

It's time for my swim.

All right.

Put on your floaties.

Fucking Mexicans ain't paid. Two months running now.

Terry would never tolerate that shit.

Get the fuck off the turnbuckle.

I'll talk to them later.

Daddy, I'm so sorry about Mr. Goldman.

It's all right.

Are you sad?

I'm fine.

Come home, Daddy.

I can't, sweetheart.

- Why? - Trust me, you don't want me there.

Look, even if you're angry with Mom, even if you're sad, we can handle it.

- Yeah? - Yeah.

Go inside.

Ray, we have to make things right.

Go fuck yourself.

Excuse me one second.

I'm sorry, Deb.

He needed you.

He was screaming your name from his deathbed.

He treated you like a son, and you abandoned him.

He treated you like a fucking son!

I don't want you here. Leave.

Leave!

Let's go.

Ray, wait.

Ray-

Let's go.

Stay here. Deb needs you.

Fuck Deb.

Stay here.

What do I gotta do, Ray?

I've apologised so many times.

What else do I have to do?

Okay, go ahead.

My smile is minty white and pearly fresh.

Pearly white, pearly white.

Okay, my smile is pearly white and minty fresh.

My smile is pearly white and minty fresh.

My smile is pearly white and minty fresh.

- Hey, you okay? - I'm fine.

You wanna talk?

Nothing to talk about.

Deb had no right treating you like that.

Ray-

I have fucking nightmares every night.

I have to live with that.

I hate this.

I hate working for Lee.

- I hate we don't even talk. - What do you wanna talk about, Avi? Huh?

- I just need... - Get the fuck out of my office.

She had everything on you.

You would have gone to prison.

Avi.

Why didn't Deb want Daddy at Ezra's funeral?

- Dad and Ezra were in a fight. - Over what?

- I can't tell you that. - You can't tell me anything.

Bridget, what's going on?

It's your fault he left.

- Excuse me? - You scream at him...

act like you're right and he's wrong, but you're the one who had an affair.

- There's a lot you don't know. - You brought that cop home.

I know you took his side against Daddy. Please, don't come up with me.

You're volunteering at the bookstore as an excuse to hover, and it's creepy.

Ray Donovan?

You know who this is?

Mr. Finney wants to meet you.

It's a short drive.

Get in.

What are we doing in here?

Visiting my son.

He must be a bad person, huh?

Who, Terry? No. Probably one of the best people you'll ever meet.

Then what's he doing in here?

There's all types of people here. Innocent people who got screwed.

There's people who made mistakes and are serving out their bid.

And there's bad people too, dangerous wackos...

who take joy in harming people.

Like Gary?

I don't know, maybe.

- Here to see Terry Donovan. - He's not accepting visitors, sir.

Just tell him his father was here again.

That's it. Let's go.

He doesn't want to see you?

No, it's not that. It's just, Terry always says no.

- Why? - He'll know we were here.

That's all that's important. Let's go get some steaks.

How you doing today, Bunch?

- You waiting for Bridget? - Yeah.

I got a couple hours to kill.

What?

- You looking at porn, Bunch? - No.

Match.com?

- It's stupid. - It's not fucking stupid.

Trying to find someone to love?

I'd say that's fucking brave.

I never get any responses.

That the only photo you got?

- Why? - Nothing. You look adorable.

We can take others, Bunchy. Let me see here.

Can't say you like to watch TV and take naps.

It's true.

Put down that you manage a gym.

That you like music and dancing.

Say that you're always up for a new adventure...

that friendship is okay.

Women fucking eat that bullshit up.

Uh...

I like to dance.

Mr. Donovan, I'm Varick Strauss.

I need you to sign this before you meet with Mr. Finney.

I assume you watch the news.

- Then you understand why you're here. - Yeah.

You can keep the pen.

This is Ray Donovan.

We were given his name by a former client of Ezra Goldman.

Andrew Finney.

- You worked for Mr. Goldman? - Yes.

Sorry for your loss.

- So, you a private eye? - No.

- Ex-cop? - No.

- Military? - I was told...

that Mr. Donovan is discreet and not afraid of violence.

You've heard of my son's abduction.

Yes.

Last night, the kidnappers contacted the media.

This morning, they demanded $5 million in ransom.

Don't you think that's strange?

- Could be. - You've dealt with this thing before.

- Kidnapping. - No.

Oh, I assume you're too busy saving people from themselves...

covering things up, huh? I guess.

You guess, could be, sure, okay.

Is this the way you obtain employment, by muttering two-word answers?

- You don't want me here, I can go. - I've offended you?

No.

You're just wasting my time.

You got a job for me, tell me what it is.

If not, thanks for the pen. You got a nice house.

No, wait, Mr. Donovan.

Exactly what do you do?

I change the story.

I've got an entire publicity department to do that.

Yeah? Have them go get your kid.

Will you come meet the family?

We're under a little duress.

Ray Donovan, my wife Charlotte, and my daughter Paige.

Nice to meet you.

- Hello, Mr. Donovan. - I'm sorry about your son.

Who is this guy?

- Varick recommended him. - Why is he here?

Trying to save your brother's ass.

This is so ridiculous. He's fine.

I have to get to work.

It's your money, Daddy. You do what you think is best.

Varick, would you take Mr. Donovan to my office?

I need to speak to my wife for a moment. Hm?

Oh, good, you're still here.

Is your son behind this?

Paige thinks it's an elaborate setup.

What do you think?

I think I'd like my son home and this whole business to go away.

- So you want me to pay the ransom. - Not unless you have to.

But there can be no bloodshed and no press.

- I have to say that. - No, you don't.

Deal with it as you see fit.

I'll call the driver.

- Got a thing for the muscle girl, Bunch? - Me?

- No. - What's with all the glances?

Those Mexicans won't pay their dues.

- Since when? - Two months.

And I'm supposed to be the goddamn manager here.

Terry's fucking stuck in prison.

I'm supposed to be good at one thing.

And people know they're not paying. And Ray... Ray's gonna think I'm weak.

What are you doing?

- Are these your people? - Yeah, lady, why?

This is my husband's fight club. You haven't paid your bills.

That guy's your husband?

Either pay your membership...

or take your sideshow freaks and get the fuck out of our club.

Thank you.

Hey.

Hey, Pop-

Uh, I think we're fucked.

This thing says we only have until April to pay this off.

- Give me your phone. - What?

Yeah, give me your fucking phone.

Mick, it's a W2-G from the IRS for gambling winnings.

We owe taxes from the track.

- Conor, it's your grandpa. - Grandpa, what are you doing?

- Forty percent of what we won. - We're having a party.

I'm not allowed to see you.

I'm not even allowed to talk to you on the phone. Bye.

- Mick. - What's your problem?

I spent my money, so did you.

I mean, how are we supposed to pay the government back?

Did you even hear what I said?

It's here. The fucking Kalamazoo.

That's it. Hurry, hurry, hurry.

Whoa, whoa, whoa.

This is community space, Mr. Donovan.

A new grill is a community decision.

You wanna disappoint all these people?

Sorry for all that sexual tension.

Go ahead, go ahead.

Why don't you just go over there at 4:00 like usual?

All right, 4, then.

- What do you think? - How many BTUs?

Fifty thousand or something.

Charcoal, wood, and gas.

They make these in the factory where they used to make Checker cabs.

- Really? - I don't know.

Listen, Gary.

Maybe you should take your business off-site.

Off-site?

Yeah, this is a family environment.

People may not say so, but they're not happy with the traffic and goings-on.

Are you challenging Mrs. Rosenblatt for president of the association, Mickey?

Also you should think about not hitting the girls.

Most girls listen to you if you give the appearance of listening to them.

You're mistaking me for somebody who gives a shit.

You're not in a good mood, so I'll catch you later.

Yeah, let's, uh, do that.

We're gonna have a nice party tonight, everybody.

Steaks and burgers are on me.

- Yeah! - Music is CDs by Daryll.

And if we're real lucky, there'll be a special guest performance...

by Audrey all the way from Apartment 16.

BYO.

- Bring salads and shit. - Yeah.

Make yourselves devastating. I'll see you later.

I know people, Raymond.

I know when someone's special.

Yeah.

I've got the money.

All right.

I could be there in 20 minutes.

Hey-

- What? - Oh, my God.

You cannot drive. You're drunk.

- You know what, you hit me. - Heh, heh. I hit your hand.

I'll take the bus. I'm not driving with you.

- Bridg. Bridget. - Sorry, I'm not.

Fuck!

Fuck, no.

- Hey, Mick. - Hey, Ginger.

Hey, sweetie.

- Cooking, huh? Mm-hm.

I need you to give me a couple minutes with Mickey...

Okay, darling? Okay.

Thank you. I'll be over in just a sec.

- Thanks, Mick. - Mm-hm.

I feel like shit. Unh.

- Can I get a glass of water? - Sure.

Thanks.

What's going on?

Gary's kicking us out.

- What? - He said I'm too old.

And now he's fucking some new girl...

and he wants Audrey and I out by the end of the week.

What about Audrey's acting?

Never gonna be an actress, Mick.

Come on.

I tell her shit so she can have a childhood, you know?

I think she's got something.

That's so sweet.

It was nice of you to get the grill for the complex.

Sure.

You're a good man, Mick.

You're a kind man.

- You're a generous man. - Aw.

- And you're a real man, in my opinion. - Mm.

Mm.

All yours, Father Romero.

Thank you, Jonathan.

- You Donovan? - Yeah.

- Where's the money? - I don't have it.

What the fuck did you just say?

You get the money when I see the kid.

You all right, Casey?

You see him. Now give us the fucking money.

My driver should be downstairs now.

Your fucking driver?

He's there.

- Can I go get it? - Fuck that.

You stay here.

What happened to him?

Shut up!

He a friend of yours, Casey?

Shut up!

He the one who set this up?

- Unh! - Shut up!

Where's the money?

You don't need any money.

It's all done through the app.

- Oh, fuck! - Sit the fuck down!

- I got shot. - Shut the fuck up.

I got shot

Don't you fucking move.

Put the gun down, nice and slow.

Turn around.

Take it off.

Take the fucking mask off!

Start running.

- You all right? - I'm bleeding, man.

- I'm bleeding. - It's a fucking graze.

I'm bleeding. Wait. Please.

Doughnut shop.

What?

It's a perfect place to run a business like yours.

Doughnut shop?

Open 24 hours. Buy a doughnut for a dollar, stay all night.

Cops can't bust you and the girls for loitering, guys know where to find them.

And no one steps on condoms while going to the parking lot. It's a win-win.

Yeah, I'm not moving my business to a fucking doughnut shop, old man.

- Listen, Gary. - What, Mickey?

- Ginger's a good lady. - Yeah, so what?

- Her kid needs a home. - I don't fucking care.

If you want them, take them both. I don't care about her or her fucking kid.

What the fuck was that?

- You crossed the line. - I cro... What the...?

Heh. I Cr... You're out of your fucking mind.

You don't scare me, Mick.

Course not. We're friends.

Want your burger?

You worked the meat too hard, dried it out.

- All right, next batch, then. - Yeah, whatever, Mickey, sure.

- What happened? - Not much.

You Okay?

I just need a night of peace.

No one getting hit, no one getting screamed at.

Got any more of that Xanax?

- Yeah, you want some? - Yeah, give me a couple.

Give me the bottle. Give me the bottle.

Be careful with those.

- Don't take too many at the same time. - I won't.

Ginger, come here.

- Ginger. - Gotta go, Mickey.

- What the fuck are you doing? - Nothing.

- What was all that? What are you doing? - Just thanking him for the party.

- You sure? - Yes.

- Go, go. - Unh!

Okay, ready, go.

One, two, three...

Mom was fucked up when she picked me up from school. It was embarrassing.

Why are you being such a bitch? She's trying her best.

- Fuck you, Conor. - Everybody drives drunk. Who cares?

That's not true.

Everybody drives drunk, and everybody looks at porn...

and everybody steals shit when people aren't looking.

Dad's a fucking thug.

Daddy's not a thug.

I meant it in a cool way.

Jesus, Bridg, you're a fucking mess.

- Come on, dog. - Mom?

Shh. Don't scare it.

Whose dog is that?

It's my dog. This is my dog.

Come on, up, up.

Come on.

- Where are we going? - I'm taking you home.

My father's gonna kill me.

When you talk to the police, what are you gonna say?

Uh, that Nick's an addict.

He needed money and...

And so he got drug dealers to kidnap me. Right?

- Then what happened? - Nick changed his mind.

The dealers, they killed Nick. I fought them off.

I stabbed one with a pen and shot him. The other got away with the money.

- Who am I? - Don't know.

Never seen you before in my life.

Good.

My father's gonna kill me.

Smell that?

Jasmine.

Okay, Mr. Donovan.

I can see you mean well.

I will get the grill approved retroactively at the next meeting.

- You're a doll. - Heh, heh.

I've been around the block, Mickey...

and I know you've been around that same block too.

I have a nice bottle of red.

Ooh.

Hey, are you gonna toss your dick into that old bag?

Watch your mouth.

I think the meat was funny, because I'm starting to get spinny.

Nothing wrong with the meat.

Maybe you drank too much.

Why do you have to be so tough on the ladies, Gary?

Huh?

Why do you have to treat them the way that you do?

The thing about girls, man, is their job is swallowing cock.

Since they're just inherently lazy...

someone has to be the guy to keep them...

Keep them motivated.

I see.

Is it true that thing's 50...?

Oh...

Fifty-five...

That's a hell of a grill, man.

Gary?

Gary?

You fell asleep.

You got Mickey Donovan.

There's a doctor in the kitchen.

Get the...

Mr. Finney wants to speak with you.

You'll see, Raymond. It's gonna be a great adventure.

- -arrive safely at the gate in Los Angeles.

I hear it was quite a spectacle.

I apologise. It was already a mess when I got there.

Casey's idiot friend Nick is dead.

Media's turning my son into some kind of action hero.

You even made one of them run away...

just in case I was the kind of man that would ask insurance...

to cover the 5 million that you just returned to me.

Are you?

My father was a criminal, Mr. Donovan. He ensured that I didn't have to be.

And your father? What did he do?

Nothing good.

So you had to be your own guide, find your own way.

You'll find that fair.

Kafka said, "In man's struggle against the world, bet on the world."

- Oh, yeah? - Mm.

You agree?

- No. - I'm with you.

People like us, you bet on the man.

You most definitely bet on the man.

Enjoy the view, Mr. Donovan.

Shh.